The drug-looking girl with the long, dark hair
That girl was something.
I had a song in my head and on beat
She looked at me, like a marionette
And my toes curled in my shoes at the sight of her.
She seemed to have daggers surrounding her,
A liquid curtain,
And a warm path beaten to her threshold, who's name was 'invitation'.
I almost paused at the window to her car
Like my eyes paused at the windowof her car--
But the inertia of movement
Prevented any dalliance at her door.
The music dallied
It started on sight, it tarried and pursued--
One of the un-associations.
It was duly noted,
And shall be remembered.
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